


Off Menu

by audreyslove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:10:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: Regina tells Robin to move on.  But come on, not with Belle.





	1. Chapter 1

They are not together.

They are not together, so she doesn't get to be jealous of the bookworm on his arm.

It might feel another way, but the truth is that is not her arm anymore, even though,  _ God,  _ it feels like it should be her arm.

But she made her feelings clear, after the  _ fourth  _ time he nearly died because of her. People keep coming to get her. Ghosts keep haunting her. And they keep insisting on attacking her by attacking him..

_ "It's not safe for you," she whispers, shaky breaths tickling his ears as they lay together, her healing magic still thick and heavy against his skin, "We, we can't do this, Robin, if I lose you…" _

_ "You won't." He has a habit of making promises he can't keep. She hates it. _

_ "I wouldn't be able to live with myself, you're the target. You. They won't attack Henry, he's just a boy. But you? You love the Evil Queen, and I've taken so many people's loves away…" _

_ "So don't take another," he pleads, "don't take my love away from me." _

_ "Robin…" she admonishes, but he hears nothing of it, will not stop begging her, imploring her, praying for her to let go of her fears and let them be. _

_ They talk around in circles. He tries, but he does not convince her. They are stubborn people, but in the end, he cannot convince her stay in the relationship, and so, they are over. _

_ "You can walk away from me, but you can't ask me to leave you," Robin says, before he leaves her mansion for what she knew was the last time. "I'm with you, always. Even if you won't let me near you." _

_ "Please don't make this any harder than it needs to be." _

_ It's the only time she has ever begged for anything from him. _

_ "Please just move on, let us move on from each other. Let me know you are safe and alive and where I can't hurt you." _

She didn't think he'd listen to her, at first. He was always...there. Sweet, and respectful, allowing his son to run up and hug Regina when she just seemed to need his affections the most. And she cherished those moments, truly, cherished the time she'd have an arm full of Roland and catch the knowing, beautiful smile of the handsome man who was  _ hers _ . She couldn't have him, couldn't, and they could never be together, but she still felt this sense of... belonging to him. They were soulmates, after all.

She thought she had prepared herself for this moment, for the time that he found someone new.

But she hadn't, not if the quick jump in her pulse is any indication, the loss of her breath, and the inability to look away from the two of them.

It makes sense, she thinks. She's not sure if the Dark One is Belle's soulmate, but they  _ fit,  _ the two of them, and they cannot be together, either. Because Regina and Rumple are too dark, too evil, too destructive for love, for these beautiful souls they are somehow tied to.

And so, now, Robin and Belle are untethered, free, and looking for new companionship.

God, the two have so much in common, she should have seen this coming…

He's laughing at something she says, he's reaching across the booth to hold her hand, and no,  _ no.  _ Not here, not at Granny's.

She suddenly has this rage, this burning anger at him she knows has no right to be there. How dare he? He knows this is hard for her, couldn't he just move on... in private first? Slowly introduce her to the idea? Maybe give her a heads up that he'd be traipsing about with the dark one's librarian, that he'd hold her hand like that, grasping at fingers, pulling at palms. If she had some warning that he'd share a look with her that's so mind-blowingly seductive, maybe she could have handled this better…

"Regina," Snow calls to her from across the table.

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

She huffs, exasperated at Snow for asking such a question, and exasperated by herself for being so obviously  _ not  _ okay that Snow even needed to ask to begin with.

"Fine," Regina mutters, taking a sip of coffee, "Sorry, what were you saying?"

But Snow has followed Regina's stare, locking in with the reason for her distraction.

"Oh Regina," Snow soothes, her eyes still on Robin and Belle, "Regina…"

"Just stop," Regina barks through clenched teeth. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright," Snow "so, the school board meeting is next week, and…"

_ Robin! Stop it!  _ She hears the bitch squeal with laughter. The sound is nauseating.

God, she's going to be sick. She's actually going to be sick.

"I'm not feeling well," Regina groans, standing up quickly. She makes a beeline for the bathroom, trying to keep her eyes anywhere but on Robin and Belle, but she has to walk right past them, so that's not quite easy, so she can turn, and look towards the bar, and —-

"Oof!"

She smacks right into someone... into... Robin.

"Regina?" he asks, so god damned innocently, "you okay?"

"Like you give a damn," she mutters before she can stop, and then she's damn near running to the bathroom before he sees the flush of embarrassment those words have caused.

"Hey, hey, hey! Regina, what the hell?" He grabs her by the arm, the upper arm, and she yanks herself free.

"Leave me alone, don't touch me!" she warns, before stalking away.

But he's behind her, following her into the hallway behind Granny's.

"I need to know what's wrong," he implores, "Come on, tell me."

But they're out in the open, and someone will hear, and he's making a scene, and she's going to shut him up, right now, but not with an audience.

So she opens the door to the bathroom and pulls him inside.

"Regina?"

"Leave me alone," she hisses, "why are you doing this to me?"

"What?"

She rolls her eyes. He won't make her say it. No way will she be the jealous woman lamenting the fact her lost love moved on.

She stares daggers at him instead, her eyes will convey the anger and the pain and the hurt that she won't give voice to.

Except he's...he's wearing a henley, white, and it's fitted nicely, and she can see the definition of his body underneath, and god, that body, she can remember what it looked like over her, naked, what that body did to her, the things she felt while feeling it and licking it and biting it.

God, she wants him.

When her eyes meet his she finds his eyes are heavy and hooded, his desire and hunger mirroring her own, breathing just a little bit heavier, looking absolutely delicious.

She should absolutely kick him out of that bathroom, splash cold water on her face, and pretend this never happened.

Her hands are on him before she can stop (she should) and she's a combination of angry and lustful when she slams him into the door behind him. His arms wrap tight around her waist, and he's pulling her forward, and fuck it, fine, what's another offense against Belle?

She captures his lips, hungry and angry and desperate. He kisses her back with everything he has, god, she's missed that mouth, missed the way he tastes. His tongue is more greedy than usual, but damn if it isn't satisfying this way.

He moans into the kiss, damn near whimpers into her mouth, and his hands lower from her waist to her hips until they lose all sense of propriety and reach around back to grab her ass.

She can't quite stifle the gasping sound she makes when she feels those hands kneading firmly.

But she's mad at him, so mad, so she pushes him away, breaking the kiss so she can muster up her best piercing glare and growl "You're an asshole."

He looks puzzled at that, and god, she's going to wipe that mock look of confusion off his face, if he would just stop biting his lip like that, that's  _ her  _ job…

She fists at the fabric of her shirt and pulls him towards her again, crashing her lips into his, throwing her arms around his neck.

He breaks from the kiss this time, pausing the sample her cheek, her neck, her shoulders, as he mutters, "Not sure I even want to know, but I feel I have to ask, why am I an asshole?"

Why again? She can't remember, not when he's planting sucking kisses in sensitive areas, not when her insides are on fire, not when her mind is spinning a reel of their past times together, reminding her how  _ good  _ this is, and how much  _ better  _ it can get.

And then, oh yes.  _  Belle. _

"If you want to fuck Rumple's leftovers, fine. Go to the Rabbit Hole, have a date with her at the library. Fuck her on Killian's boat for all I care. But don't parade her in front of me."

"Belle?" He's smirking, his eyes go playful, lose a bit of that overwhelming lust they used to hold, "You think i'm dating Belle?"

"I don't care what you're doing with her," Regina snips, "nor do I care what she's doing to you. Although I somehow doubt it's anything good," she huffs, "you never seemed the type for the meek and bookish."

"Hmmm." Robins arms loop loosely around her waist, and he's staring at her intently, "I wouldn't call Belle bookish. She's bold, daring in her own way, and…"

"Shut up, Robin," Regina scowls, "I don't want to hear about how you've got a new kink for pretty little Belle."

"And why's that? I thought I was no longer yours."

He's got a point, god damn it. And she hates him for it. Hates the playful stare, the way his hand moves, rubbing circles up her back, that feels so sinful, he knows what that does to her.

"You're always mine," she insists, and she's angry, defiant, frustrated, moreso at herself than anyone else at this moment, "whether I can have you or not, you still belong to me."

She claims his lips again, planting another bruising kiss on them. He opens his mouth for her quickly, kissing her as deeply and passionately as she's kissing him, hurried, sloppy, desperate movements.

She lets him sweep his arms under her ass, lets him lift her up, her legs wrapping around her waist, her skirt bunching and sliding up to her waist in the action. She feels him walk just a bit to the left, and then her back knocks into the wall hard. She's pleasantly pinned between the wall and  _ her  _ man, in a tiny little bathroom with most of the town right outside thin walls, and there are a thousand reasons to stop this. But she won't.

"I want you," he rasps into her ear. She can feel it, didn't need to have him say it, he's hard against her core. She rocks into him, failing to suppress the moan that comes out of her mouth, and oh god, she better keep it down. But she'd be lying if the thought of little Belle hearing them do this didn't thrill her just a bit.

She just nods, unwraps her legs from his waist and lets her feet find purchase with the floor (she groans at the loss of friction between her thighs, misses the warmth of his body against her). She watches while he makes quick work of the buttons and zippers of his pants.

He grabs at the hem of her panties, her skirt is fully rucked up around her waist, there's just this thin cotton fabric between them. And frankly, at this moment, she doesn't much care what happens to them.

"Rip them off," she orders into his ear, the sound he makes in response is pure ecstasy.

He rips hard, there's a bit of pain as the elastic stretches and digs into skin before tearing from her body, but it's good, that bit of pain has her pulsing with an even stronger need, and as the fabric rips his stare goes from lustful to damn near animalistic.

"Get inside me."

It was happening whether she told him to or not, but she loves how he responds to her words, how it makes him shudder and moan.

"Are you ready, love?" he asks, almost too sweetly his hands sweeping up her legs,caressing gently , and god damn it, he's ruining the mood by being his sickly sweet, perfect, beautiful self. That's not what she needs right now.

"Are  _ you  _ ready, thief?" she counters hotly, "Because if you're not interested, perhaps someone else is willing to satisfy my needs…"

"Don't you fucking dare," he warns, pushing her into the wall a bit more fiercely, "don't even think about touching another man."

"Mmm, but you're going to — ohh!" He's tearing at her shirt now, pulling it down, and her bra, groping a breast harshly, and god, it feels good, especially when he pinches the nipple just so. She throws her head back, and she hits it against the wall, but the sound she meakes makes it clear she's feeling anything but pain..

"Love your tits," Robin rasps, his voice deep and throaty. How the fuck did she ever resist him for this long?

"Better than Belle's?" She cannot help but ask, before she shifts and wedges a hand between them, just to grip his cock, just to feel his hardness in her hands.

He lets out a grateful sigh, gasping as she strokes and tugs.

"I've never —  _ fuck Regina  _ — I've never seen Belle's tits."

She stares at him, disbelieving for a moment, but he's telling the truth.

"And you're never going to," she spits back. Her voice is strict and stern, almost scolding, but he knows her, knows that this is a promise to not leave him again. It's as close as she gets to sappy, but he knows that, too, doesn't he?

She hooks a thigh around his waist, pleased when he gets the message and loops a hand under her ass and lifts her up. And then she wiggles a bit to the left, lining her core up with his cock, and guides him in.

He nearly spasms as he enters her, shuddering and moaning her name. It's perhaps the first time he's been inside her without using fingers or his tongue or mouth, and he'd been unprepared, perhaps, for exactly how wet she was, how desperate she was for him.

She's pulsing around him in an instant, and god, she should be embarrassed at how riled up he's had her, but she's missed him, damn it, and those few minutes of picturing him with that perfect, pure little soul have her so pent up with so many different emotions she can't see straight.

"You're so fucking wet, so tight for me," he moans into her, as he adjusts his grip on her ass, kneading a bit as he adjusts. She's not heavy, but it can't be comfortable to be carrying her for this long, so she adjusts, wraps legs around him tighter, to shift some of the weight off his hands.

The angle shifts, and it's deeper now, and hitting  _ that  _ spot, and she cries out softly before she lets him swallow her moans in a kiss.

"Fuck me harder," she orders, "I need to feel all of you."

He wasn't exactly being the definition of gentle, but at her request his movements quicken, she feels the deep firm thrusts, her body slamming against the wall with each pass. But she likes it, likes the violence of the action. God knows she needs him terribly, and she loves knowing she isn't the only one who can't control herself right now.

"Can you feel all of me? Every inch of me, deep inside you?" his breath is hot against her ear, and she should come up with some sassy reply, but it's so god damned hot, and there's the repetitive thump against her g spot, so she just shakes her head, and attempts to hum in the affirmative, but her hum sounds more like a squeal of pleasure than anything else.

"So good," she pants, but she needn't, she's spasming against him in short order, it's a matter of time before she comes and he knows it. "Love the way you feel inside me."

"Me too," he groans, "Fuck, I missed you, Regina, I missed you so much."

She bites back the words that bubble up her, won't be getting sappy and sentimental when he's balls deep inside her, so she grips him tighter and pulls him into a kiss, and then everything inside her goes white hot, and she's right on edge, about to spill over, and it's all too much, goosebumps flare under warm hands and firm touches, and  _ shit _ .

"I love you, god, I love you so much," she cries out as her orgasm overtakes her, before she has the good sense to bite down the words that she knows will be her undoing.

But he just echoes them, and though she can't see him from this angle, his head is against her cheek, breathing into her ear, she can damn near  _ hear  _ the shit eating grin in his voice as he tells her how much he loves her, then jerks faster, chasing his orgasm until he spills inside her.

He lowers her slowly in the afterglow, nuzzling against her neck, making sure her legs are steady before he lets go. She's still breathing heavy, but she's coming down from her high fast, her mind spinning and gripping around the memory of the words she said mid-orgasm, and shit, they have to address that, don't they?

"I'm never going to want anyone else as long as I know you're right here," he whispers, kissing her brow.

"I don't want you with  _ her."  _ Her voice almost sounds childish, and perhaps she's being childish right now, because deep down inside, she knows there's nothing there.

"Mm, I'll just have to be with you, then." Robin smirks, raising his eyebrows. Before she can think of a response, he kisses her frown away. "After all, you love me."

She raises a hand to her forehead, rubbing lightly, "Right. About that. It was... in the heat of the moment. I don't think you should take anything I say mid orgasm seriously."

"You don't love me?" He feigns insult, but he knows that no, that's not what she meant.

"I shouldn't be saying those things," she reminds him, "I want you, you know I do, and yes, I hate the thought of you with someone else. But things have not changed. It's still dangerous for you if we are together."

"It's dangerous for me to be here if we are apart," he points out, " All we're doing is sparing ourselves the pleasure of one another's company. There will always be a threat, Regina, that comes with loving you. But I do, you know. Love you. And you…" he grasps her hand in both of his squeezing it before drawing it up for a kiss, "have done a god awful job at convincing me you don't care."

Somehow though she should feel offended she just feels this incredible feeling of… peace.

Robin takes her silence for the concession it is, and the look of pure victory spreads across his face...victory combined with that smugness that she hates (she loves).

"Regina," he says, smirking with amusement, "Did you really think I was with Belle?"

She shrugs her shoulders and focuses her efforts on smoothing out her skirt, "you have a lot in common. Both of you had a past with... villains…"

"Not a past. A present. That's why we get along so well," he corrects, looping a finger around her fallen bra strap and tugging it into place. "Belle's a lovely woman, don't get me wrong, but—"

"Let's take a pause on listing the admirable qualities of  _ Beauty  _ ," she scowls, smoothing her hair into place, "I don't care what you did with her —"

"Liar," he whispers softly to her, a smile on his face. "But there was nothing, not even a peck on the cheek."

"You'd have every right to be with her anyway. I just…" she waves her hand in the air as if to make light of the issue, a pathetic attempt to look nonchalant and breezy. "I'd rather not know about it. Or  _ see  _ it."

But Robin is shaking his head, that smile on his face spread into a smirk that tells her he thinks she has said something ridiculous. "I'd have no right to be with her, Regina. As long as you are here, I have no right to be with anyone who is not you."

She doesn't fight her grateful smile now, doesn't hide what those words mean to her. This is it. They belong with one another.

"Alright, thief," she says with an exaggerated sigh and a sly smile on her face, "come on, let's go."

She's holding her hand out, motioning towards the far and of the bathroom rather than the door and the shift in direction clearly confuses him.

"Where exactly are we going?" Robin asks, looking towards the door.

"Home. By way of magic."

She doesn't specify  _ hers  _ or  _ his.  _ the implication is clear, however, that it is both of theirs.

"Is there a problem with the regular way home?"

"We've been here for quite some time. And as much as I'd like to see Snow's mortified face, I don't think I need a lecture from the widow Lucas on proper uses for the bathroom...unless you need to say goodbye to your little friend out there?"

He shakes his head, unable to contain the joy from radiating off of him. "No, milady, i'd like nothing more than to go home with you, right now. And every day hereafter."

She raises her eyebrow and bites her lip in that way she knows he likes, then grabs him by the fabric of his shirt and pulls him close to her.

"You better."

And with a heated kiss and a puff of magic, she takes them home.

To her surprise, neither Snow nor Belle takes the opportunity to mock them for their exclusion. They seem too relieved to find the couple happily back together to bother teasing them with the circumstances of their reunion. Though Regina does receive a cleaning bill for the bathroom at Granny's, attached with a note that says "YOU KNOW WHY".


	2. Snow's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little companion piece for laughs

It starts with muffled voices followed by the slamming of the door.  And then, for a bit, silence.

There’s no insulation in Granny’s walls, and every sound from the hallway travels.  So at first, Snow thinks Regina took Robin into the bathroom to have a quiet chat.  They do need a good talk, afterall.

Regina is being absurd with this refusal to be happy thing.

But then there’s another slam, and the far wall appears to vibrate with the action, and hushed, darkened tones worry her.  They are fighting, she thinks. 

Regina has come so far in concealing her rage, battling her instincts to jump to violence to solve her problems, but…well, she never handled losing loved ones easily, and if Robin truly was with  _Belle_ (Snow doubts that, their conversation looked perfectly innocent and friendly to her, despite how Regina must have interpreted it) who knows how Regina may react.

It’s lunch hour on a weekend, and Granny’s is nearly a full house and thank god for that, Snow thinks.  The steady buzz of dozens of different conversations are dulling the sounds coming from behind the walls.  

No need to worry the town about the evil queen returning to her old ways, afterall.

Snow puts down her tea and stands up, determined to interrupt this fight before it gets carried away.

But then she hears what is definitely  _not_ an angered voice, no, it’s a  _moan,_ and god damn it, she definitely did not sign up for this.  They were supposed ot have a quiet lunch and catch up on the state of the schools, she was not supposed to be seconds away from walking in on her step-mother having a quickie.

She sits back down, cheeks flushed, wondering if anyone else heard it.

Nearly everyone else is too wrapped up in their own conversations to care, but Belle,  _Belle_ is sitting at her booth, looking a bit  _too_ interested in a menu she definitely has memorized.

_Oh, God!_

Snow cringes at that, closes her eyes and wishes she had the magic to poof herself away from this moment.  But when she opens her eyes, her wish has not been granted.  She makes contact with Belle, who has given up any pretense of naivity regarding the situation, and is throwing her a knowing look, hand over her mouth barely concealing her giggles.

There’s another slam now, that one so loud everything on that far wall shakes.  Customers look up, puzzled.  

Conversations quickly die down and the dining room grows quiet, while people glance up at the shaking wall, their expressions turning from confused to knowing.  Some look offended, many seem all too amused with the situation, and some seem very, very  _uncomfortable_ with the sounds the former evil queen is making.

Especially the men.

She is going to kill Regina.  If she doesn’t die of embarrassment she is going to kill her.

There’s more arguing, except she knows it’s not arguing, it’s  _foreplay_ , and she can’t make out the words, but it’s “something-something-something,  _thief”_  and did Snow and the rest of the town really need to know their pet names for one another?

There’s a steady thumping against the wall now, and conversations at the tables of Grannys’ have all but stopped, except for the half-stifled giggles of the customers and whispered words of offense.

Each moan, each muffled sound of dirty words exchanged, twist into Snows mind, and jesus, she’s going to have to schedule a nice round of therapy with Archie after this, because hearing the woman who was once married to her father make sexy, deep, throaty sounds like this is a little too much.

Ruby pays no mind to the sound, surprisingly. She just continues to wait tables as if she doesn’t hear the slamming and the moaning that grows ever louder.  

But Granny is a different story.  She’s been in the kitchen, cooking, the noises of the griddle and the stove muffling the sounds of passionate lovemaking that now fill the dining area.  But when she steps back from the kitchen to deliver the new order, she notices the tell tale, rhythmic quakes of the wall.

“God damn it,” Granny groans, throwing down a dishrag, “do you people have no decency?”

“Granny, granny!” Snow jumps up to block her from the path of the bathroom, holding a hand up in protest, and then leans into whisper “it’s Regina.  And Robin.”

Granny scowls, disappointed, then huffs out a breath of air.  “Oh.”

“I think they….they might need this?”

“They can get a pass for this time.  Provided Queenie stops sulking around and lets that poor man love her.” Granny mutters.

“But I’m hiring someone to clean that bathroom, and she’s paying.”


End file.
